


presume

by helsinkibaby



Category: FBI (TV 2018)
Genre: Comment Fic, F/M, Fluff, Het, Reunions, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:01:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22484557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helsinkibaby/pseuds/helsinkibaby
Summary: After a month undercover, Kristen comes home.
Relationships: Kristen Chazal/Jubal Valentine
Comments: 3
Kudos: 30





	presume

**Author's Note:**

> Theme: free for all  
> Prompt : any fandom, any OTP, Imagine your OTP cuddling together naked. Not touching each other sexually, just being comfortable in their own bodies around each other completely.

When his cell phone rings as he and Isobel are just leaving the office, Jubal takes one look at the name on the screen and raises the phone to his ear, quickly so Isobel can’t see the photograph that goes with the name. As he says a generic greeting, he waves her towards the elevator, shaking his head when she lifts one eyebrow, wordlessly asking if she needs to stick around for the call. Her look of relief when he jerks his chin towards the just arrived elevator - it’s been a long few weeks on this case - is only matched by the sense of relief he feels when she steps away and lets the door close behind her. He’d usually feel bad about not escorting her to her car - Mama Valentine raised a gentleman - but it’s an FBI parking garage. The phrase “safe as houses” was made for it. 

“You’re still in the office?” Kristen’s voice sounds even more tired than it had when she’d left the office a while ago. It doesn’t sound like she’s driving though, no tell tale sound of traffic through a hands free device. 

“On my way out now,” he says. “You’re home?” 

She makes a little noise that he thinks might be assent. It’s very tired assent though. “Someone’s been very thoughtful. Stacked my mail. Watered my plants.” 

All of which he’d done gladly and he chuckles. “And you said I didn’t have a green thumb.” 

He thinks she might laugh at that, fire back a pithy comment or barb like they used to back before she spent a month undercover, the longest they’ve been apart since they’ve been seeing each other. She doesn’t. Instead she sighs. “Are you coming over?” 

He wants to. God, he wants to. But he’s been on undercover ops, knows homecoming can be hell. “I didn’t want to presume...” 

“Jubal.” She interrupts him, her voice flat. “Presume.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“Good. You can let yourself in... I’m going to jump under the shower. I’ll see you soon.” 

She hangs up before he can say anything else and he barely registers the journey from the hallway where he’s standing to the front door of her place. 

Once there, he lets himself in, listening for the sound of the shower running and finding it lacking before he calls out, “Kris? It’s me.” He drops his go bag - because to hell with presuming, he’d known this morning they’d be wrapping the op today, and he’d thrown an overnight bag in his trunk, just in case - beside the door, hangs up his coat and turns just in time to get an chestful of Kristen. Her arms go around his neck, knocking him back slightly and it’s a messy combination of her jumping up and him lifting her that has her feet off the ground as he buries his face in her hair. She’s wearing a flimsy robe, her hair pulled back in a long braid and she feels better in his arms than he remembered and what he’d remembered had been pretty damn awesome. 

He holds her tight until he feels as well as hears her suck in a shuddering breath as she lowers her feet to the ground. Then she lifts her head from where it’s tucked into the crook of his neck and bestows on him a smile that’s almost embarrassed, but no less wonderful for that. “Hi,” she breathes and all he can do is smile. Well, that and raise one hand to touch her cheek. 

“Hi yourself.” Even to his own ears, his voice is husky. “That’s some welcome.” 

Kristen narrows her eyes. “I swear, make one comment about how I’ll have to go away more often...”

“No.” His immediate, heartfelt answer makes her laugh. “No, I think I like you just where you are.” His thumb sweeps up and down her cheek. “I missed you.” 

Her tongue peeks out, sweeps along her lower lip. “Me too.” She slides a hand down his arm until their fingers tangle together. She takes a step back and, with a gentle tug, leads him to the bedroom. 

“Don’t get excited,” she says as she walks. “I have missed you, I swear. But I’m really tired... is it okay if we just... sleep for now?” 

Considering his homecomings from undercover ops had often consisted of sleeping for huge amounts of time, that makes complete sense to him. “Sweetheart, I’m not sure how I’m supposed to _not_ get excited when a beautiful woman, who I haven’t seen in a month, is lying beside me.” He’s only half joking. “But I don’t mind if you don’t.” 

Kristen smiles softly, her hands going to his chest, slowly starting to undo the buttons of his shirt. “I know it sounds silly,” she says, “but it’s just... I’ve spent the last month being someone else. Tonight I want to go to sleep in my own bed, in my own apartment, with my...” She stops, stumbles over her words. “With you,” she finally finishes, pushing his shirt back from his shoulders, letting it fall to the ground. “I want to know I’m home.” 

For once, Jubal is barely conscious of her fingers finding the buckle of his belt. “I am, you know,” he tells her as he finds the tie of her robe, undoing it easily, it and his pants falling to the floor at the same time. “Yours.” 

She looks down and he pretends not to notice the sudden sheen in her eyes. “I didn’t want to presume...”

“Kris.” If she can steal his words, he can steal her response. “Presume.” 

Her laugh is music to his ears as she helps him out of his undershirt while he takes care of his boxers himself and there’s a split second where he entertains the same uncomfortable thought he’s entertained since she’s been gone. Namely that she’s been sharing the op, to say nothing of close quarters, with OA Zidan and Jubal’s not a vain man, he’s not, but he does not have a body like OA Zidan. He’s also honest enough to admit that it’s nothing to do with the other agent being a decade younger than him - even back in the day, he’d never looked like that. 

But as Kristen runs her hands across his chest, up to his shoulders, she doesn’t seem to mind. 

“Come to bed,” she whispers softly and he’s not going to refuse an offer like that. 

They arrange themselves easily, him lying on his back, Kristen pressed up against his side. Her head is pillowed on his chest, above his heart, their legs tangled together. One of his hands rests on her hip as the other reaches up and plays with her hair. Every so often, his fingers trace a lazy path down her spine while hers wander across his chest and neck, sending shivers in their wake. And yes, there is a moment where his body gets involuntarily interested in proceedings but they both ignore it, her with a knowing little smile, him with a kiss to the top of her head. 

He falls asleep with her breath in his ear and it’s the best sleep he’s had in a month. 

And hours later, when he wakes up with her lips on his collarbone, it turns into the best morning.


End file.
